Today’s sketch is a scene from my 1999 novel Stone & Sky. It shows the moment where, having survived both the eruption of Krakatoa and his unexpected relocation to a strange and inexplicably vertiginous alien world, Victorian explorer Jonah Lightfoot finds that his new companion Annie West is not all she seems. If the drawing isn’t enough for you, here’s the scene on which it’s based.

I’ve always enjoyed drawing the weird realm of Stone. The entire world is one gigantic wall, which poses a few challenges when you’re trying to compose an image. Perhaps that’s why this illustration is very similar in composition to the UK paperback cover, painted by Les Edwards based on a sketch of mine. It’s an easy win really – just a simple one-point perspective that relies on the 10° angle of Stone’s world-wall to create the necessary otherworldly feel. Next time, I’ll attempt the more difficult task of looking up or down the wall, as well as along it.

The figures are rudimentary – and not quite accurate to the text. They should be naked, for one thing. But with only a couple of hours to spare on a Sunday afternoon, I wasn’t about to audition models prepared to strip off and pose for me in my living room. Maybe next time …

Here’s a timelapse video of the drawing from start to finish. It took around an hour to complete, using a regular ballpoint pen – plus a dab or two of white paint at the end.

Scientists like to categorise things. “This is how the universe began,” they say, or, “This is how atoms work,” or, “Here’s how humans developed from their apelike ancestors.”

But science isn’t just studying the individual dots. It’s working out how they join up. Because everything is connected. After all, that’s what the word “universe” really means: turned into one.

This connectivity is the theme of We Are Stars, a new fulldome science documentary from award-winning computer animation studio NSC Creative which enjoyed its official world premiere last night, 15 July 2015, at the National Space Centre, Leicester, UK.

“We Are Stars” begins its cosmic journey in a Victorian funfair, before whisking viewers away on a dazzling tour of space and time.

Choosing as its subject nothing less than the entire history of creation, the 26-minute steampunk-themed film boldly goes on a dizzying journey through time from the Big Bang to the present day. Beginning with the simplest atoms, We Are Stars explains how nuclear fusion in the hearts of early stars allowed the construction of more complex elements, which were then sprayed across space by vast supernova explosions, creating giant nebulae which then condensed to form new stars surrounded by planets laced with those complex elements, which in turn became the building blocks of primitive life, which gradually evolved into, well, us.

Sounds complicated? Fear not – the carefully-researched science in We Are Stars is delivered with effortless panache by the Time Master, a Victorian tour guide who chaperones both his animated acolytes and their real human audience on this eye-opening odyssey through space and time.

Voiced by genre favourite Andy Serkis, the Time Master has up his sleeve a series of whimsical mechanical devices cunningly designed to demonstrate key scientific concepts in simple terms. Want to travel through time? Take a spin through the stream of pictures in this flickering zoetrope. Want to observe the evolution of life on Earth? Watch tin-toy dinosaurs lumber across the surface of a brass globe in this quaint revolving orrery.

It’s not all Victorian whimsy, however. We Are Stars also serves up a spectacular platter of deep-space vistas. Supported by Rhian Sheehan’s soaring score (available for free download here) the jumbo-sized visuals take full advantage of the immersive fulldome format. The result? Breathtaking.

So what exactly is fulldome? Simply put, it’s a movie projected not on to a regular screen, but on to the inside of a dome. Imagine a planetarium on steroids. What fulldome delivers is an audience experience that’s as close to virtual reality as you’ll get within a theatrical environment.

Indeed, virtual reality is very much the order of the day here, with We Are Stars claiming its place as the world’s first science documentary designed and created for both VR HMDs (Head Mounted Devices) and immersive dome screens. According to Paul Mowbray, show producer and head of NSC Creative:

This film pushes the bleeding edge of VR out to the edge of the universe. We hear a lot of concern as the rest of the industry gears up to dealing with high resolution 4k and high frame rates. We have been doing that since 2000. Now we are moving to 8k, stereo, 360° films, and blazing a trail in immersive media production. Hold on to your HMD!

Impressive though the technology is, however, what lies at the heart of the show is the storytelling. As Max Crow, director of We Are Stars, explains:

When you start dealing with stories on the cosmological scale, it is very easy to lose sight of the human story. With the We Are … series of films, the human side to the latest astronomy and space science research has always been at their core. With We Are Stars, it is more relevant than ever as we connect life on Earth with the Big Bang, and attempt to give the audience a sense of where they have come from and what they are fundamentally made of. The fancy headline technical specifications make for an incredibly immersive experience, but it is the story at its heart that truly immerses the viewer in a universe of wonder and enlightenment.

Left to right: Max Crow, Andy Serkis, Paul Mowbray.

There are as many film formats these days as there are branches of science. A routine trip to your local multiplex means deciding between 2D or 3D, regular or IMAX. Now that fully immersive VR technology seems finally to be coming of age, the choices look set to expand even further.

Faced with so many choices – so many dots, if you will – it’s vital that filmmakers in all media remember the one thread that joins them all together: telling a good story. Just like the one told by We Are Stars. It’s the story of us, and of the amazing universe that surrounds us.

What better place to tell it than inside a great big dome?

We Are Stars is currently showing at the National Space Centre in 4k x 4k 2D at 30fps. Later in the year, the show will be upgraded to 8k x 8k resolution, running in 3D at a high frame rate of 60fps. It will also be available in a range of virtual reality formats.

Just like Arnold Schwarzenegger, visual effects aren’t just about action and spectacle.

In Henry Hobson’s melancholy zombie film Maggie, Schwarzenegger plays Wade Vogel, a devoted father who cares for his daughter, Maggie (Abigail Breslin), after she contracts a dreadful disease which gradually turns its victims into flesh-eating monsters.

For my latest article on the Cinefex blog, I spoke to Aymeric Perceval of Cinesite, whose team delivered over 80 VFX shots in which they applied subtle digital makeup to Breslin and other performers, in order to show the progressive effects of the infection.

In this extract, Perceval discusses this the difficulties of “applying” the digital makeup to extreme close-up shots in which Maggie’s face was not only constantly moving and flexing, but also going in and out of focus:

It was definitely challenging. Abigail’s skin was completely baby smooth, so the tracking team did an incredible job, frame by frame. Imagine all these close-ups of body parts subtly twitching, with a focus point constantly traveling … and no tracking markers! As the disease progressed and more painted veins appeared on Maggie’s skin, this task became a little easier.

Close-ups of Maggie’s feet going in and out of focus, with their subtle twitching, were massively tricky to track, even with the existing makeup. Senior matchmover Matt Boyer came up with sets of distorted planes which proved very helpful, and matchmove lead Arron Turnbull and his team did a magnificent job.

For some parts, we created geometry from the on-set pictures. Our head of assets, James Stone, modeled Abigail’s head based on photos provided to us. Incidentally, when we did receive measurements, our digital model was only 2mm out!

]]>http://graham-edwards.com/2015/07/08/cinefex-maggie/feed/0grahamedwardsonline"Maggie" starring Arnold Schwarzenegger and Abigail BreslinMaggie-Cinesite-Abigail-Before-After-1-1024x690Ghostwriter Diaries – Unenlightening Pixelshttp://graham-edwards.com/2015/07/08/unenlightening-pixels/
http://graham-edwards.com/2015/07/08/unenlightening-pixels/#respondWed, 08 Jul 2015 14:01:00 +0000http://graham-edwards.com/?p=6856]]>I’ve just seen a beautiful book cover. It belongs to the Czech translation of my most recent ghostwritten novel, and it’s gorgeous. I’d love to share it with you, but I’m afraid the rules just don’t allow it. The best I can do, unenlightening though it may be, is to show you a random bunch of pixels from one tiny segment of the image. You’re welcome.

]]>http://graham-edwards.com/2015/07/08/unenlightening-pixels/feed/0grahamedwardsonlineGhost-Close-1Ten Reasons to Write Fantasyhttp://graham-edwards.com/2015/07/02/ten-reasons-to-write-fantasy/
http://graham-edwards.com/2015/07/02/ten-reasons-to-write-fantasy/#respondThu, 02 Jul 2015 11:35:00 +0000http://graham-edwards.com/?p=6848]]>“Why don’t you write something normal for a change?” That’s what my wife often says to me after she’s read my latest piece of fiction. It doesn’t mean she doesn’t like what I’ve written – well, not always … It’s just another reminder that one man’s meat is another woman’s poison.

So why bother to write fantasy at all? There are lots of reasons, but here are just ten …

… the wizard’s magic has me in its spell.

… it’s one way to keep the dark lord’s evil minions distracted while I try to find a way out of this damn dungeon.

… although I am human, my eyes are not, and so I see the world differently to you.

… I like dragons.

… the moment I complete my epic tale, King Arthur will once more awaken to reclaim the lost realm of Albion.

… it’s the only thing I can get this wretched enchanted pen to write.

… when the roles of noble warrior, nimble elf and cunning dwarf are already taken, the only part left to play is the humble bard.

… if I fail to spin a fresh yarn every day, the fairies will turn me into a pumpkin.

… only by casting a net of words can I capture the elusive magic, as a spider’s web catches the morning dew.

… it is the prophecy.

Does fantasy have you in its spell? Or are you mainstream to the marrow? Alternatively, are you one of those who believes that all notions of genre belong in the trash barrel?

Some people seem to think that, just because a novel is labeled as fantasy or crime, romance or historical, it should be devoid of horror. “I liked your book,” they say, “except for that nasty bit in the middle. Couldn’t you have left that out?”

My response to any such question is: “No! And thrice no!” Why? Because everywhere you look there’s horror. There’s also love and wonder and excitement and fear. If fiction is to be inclusive, it should embrace all these things and more. Only by painting the shadows can the artist deliver the light.

Perhaps that’s why everything I write is tinged with at least a little darkness. Then again, perhaps it’s because I have a twisted mind and a taste for raw flesh. The truth is, there are a thousand reasons to write horror. Here are just ten of them …

… as long as I’m looking at the screen of my laptop, I don’t have to look at the blood oozing under the door.

… words are my only comfort in this scarred and silent wasteland.

… my prose has the power to turn all who read it insane. Including you. Reading this. Now.

… it keeps my mind off the slowly spreading infection.

… the story I am telling is my own. If I stop, I will die.

… something has taken control of my pen and is forcing it to keep on writing writing writing while all the time inside my head I am silently screaming screaming screaming.

… the demons promised that when I had written ten million words I would be free.

… it distracts me from the scratching noise at the window. Hush. Wait. Do you hear it too?

… tapping at the keyboard keeps my claws short.

… if I stop writing, the monsters will get me.

I could keep going, but I wouldn’t want to scare you. In fact, it’s time for you to do the scaring, by telling me what draws you into the shadows. Horror – what’s in it for you?

Every ghostwriter has to put his feet up once in a while. That’s what I’m doing right now. The trouble with being a ghost, of course, is that your feet go right through the coffee table.

The reason for this self-indulgent behaviour? Well, the first novel of the fantasy trilogy I’m steadily working my way through was published earlier this month. The first crop of review have planted it firmly in the “4 stars out of 5″ zone. Which is fantastic.

Best of all, some reviews are coming straight from middle-grade readers – the target audience – via educational blogs designed to give youngsters a safe forum in which to air their views. It’s refreshing to read these. Young people don’t mess around trying to be clever or polite – they just say it how it is. Good or bad.

In this case, the feedback’s generally good. Most readers favour the second half of the book over the first (who’d have thought an action-packed finale would be so popular?), with several citing a preference for the gory bits, fully supporting my theory that kids are suckers for a bit of splatter. If I provoke at least one “Eeugh!” per reader, I consider that a good job done.

Meanwhile, book 2 is safely delivered, which means I’m now waiting patiently to receive the outline for the third and final book. That will land on my desk in September, at which point it’ll be time to gas up with all the good words and put my pedal to the metal once more.

And in case you thought this “feet on the coffee table” behaviour means I’m idle, nothing could be further from the truth. I’m still pumping out weekly articles on movies and visual effects for the Cinefex blog, and also taking the opportunity to (a) organise my vast collection of notebooks, half-baked stories and broken novels and (b) reflect on the shape of this, my sixth writing life.

And before you argue – yes, ghosts do have reflections. You were thinking of vampires.

In my latest article for Cinefex, I spoke to Soho-based Milk VFX about their work on the BBC adaptation of Jonathan Strange & Mr Norrell, the award-winning dark fantasy novel by Susanna Clarke.

Here’s a short extract:

Milk VFX populated their digital battlefield with no less than 50,000 soldiers. During production, performers and extras were photoscanned wearing period costume, with the resulting data being used to create multiple types of CG double, ranging from Napoleonic grunt to Regency officer.

To control these huge numbers of digital extras, Milk turned to Golaem Crowd, their crowd management tool of choice, which they had first used on Brett Ratner’s 2014 feature Hercules. “We had soldiers, captains, all with different guns, different uniforms, different props,” said CG supervisor Nicolas Hernandez. “They were all procedurally managed by Golaem.”

Similar attention to detail was used when re-creating the firepower of the digital troops. “Every cannon had five soldiers around it, which was historically correct,” observed VFX supervisor Jean-Claude Deguara. Simulation systems permitted each cannon to “fire” automatically. “The simulation worked out the projection of the cannonball, and where it would hit the ground,” explained Hernandez. “We imported it into Maya, where we used a library of explosions that triggered procedurally. The first version we did of the shot looked like a Michael Bay film! We had 25,000 explosions, and the whole screen was covered in smoke!”

]]>http://graham-edwards.com/2015/06/24/jonathan-strange-mr-norrell/feed/0grahamedwardsonlineJonathan Strange & Mr Norrell - visual effects by Milk VFXThe Bone Clocks – Reviewhttp://graham-edwards.com/2015/06/19/bone-clocks-review/
http://graham-edwards.com/2015/06/19/bone-clocks-review/#commentsFri, 19 Jun 2015 12:18:55 +0000http://graham-edwards.com/?p=6823]]>Ever since the publication in 1999 of his first novel, Ghostwritten, author David Mitchell has consistently delighted in playing with narrative structure, such as in his earlier work, Cloud Atlas, in which six centuries-spanning narratives are nested together like matryoshka dolls.

Mitchell’s latest novel, The Bone Clocks, is also divided into multiple sections, each with its own narrator. However, unlike Cloud Atlas, its story is ultimately about just one person – Holly Sykes, an ordinary Gravesend girl with an extraordinary gift, who finds herself caught up in a cosmic battle between the Horologists and the Anchorites – two factions of rarefied amortals who share the ability to cheat death.

I’ve just finished listening to the unabridged Whole Story Audiobooks edition of The Bone Clocks, wonderfully narrated by Jessica Ball, Leon Williams, Colin Mace, Steven Crossley, Laurel Lefkow and Anna Bentinck. Given the audiobook’s total length of nearly 25 hours, it was a mammoth undertaking. But that’s the great thing about audiobooks – they force to you listen to every single word.

Where The Bone Clocks is concerned, that can only be a good thing. Mitchell’s prose is rich and witty, his dialogue frothy and articulate, his ideas strong and far-seeing. Yet the whole is imbued with a clarity of diction many so-called literary authors fight shy of. The sound of a pivotal cataclysmic event is described as like “a town being dropped, and everything in it smashing to bits”; after a ride up a mountain, “Holly slides off the chairlift like a gymnast, and I slide off like a sack of hammers”; we are told that “the soul is on the edge of what’s visible, like a clear glass marble in a jar of water.”

It’s hard not to compare this novel with Cloud Atlas – which I read in the conventional way and which, yes, I do confess to skimming a bit. The Bone Clocks is more accessible than its predecessor, I think. The connections between the different parts are more obvious, and despite the unusual structure the whole thing follows a more traditional narrative arc.

Some characters from the two books even share the same DNA. Crispin Hershey, the curmudgeonly author of The Bone Clocks, bears more than a passing resemblance to Timothy Cavendish, the irascible vanity publisher of Cloud Atlas. I have no problem with that. Hershey’s voice is as pithy, plummy and crackling with fireworks as that of his literary predecessor. As performed by Steven Crossley, Hershey is always sympathetic, frequently hysterically funny, yet consistently and disarmingly sad.

The clarity of Mitchell’s storytelling is welcome in a book of this complexity. It also creates one of the novel’s few problems. Some of the exposition, especially that which delves into the actions and motives of the novel’s undying amortals, is sufficiently on-the-nose that it sometimes robs the story of mystery.

Similarly, the repetitive strokes of deus ex machina that are wielded by the amortals, and which ultimately stitch Holly Sykes’s entire life together, are sometimes too predictable to be anything more than, well, acts of costumed gods descending on cardboard chariots from a theatrical heaven.

But these are minor gripes. If Mitchell’s storytelling machine makes the occasional clunk, it’s only because he’s revving it to the max. The jolts are worth tolerating, not least for those exquisite moments when the gears of those disparate narratives mesh suddenly and seamlessly together, and all the hairs go up on the back of your neck.

Given that it’s ultimately about the journey of one, flawed, human soul, could The Bone Clocks have packed more of an emotional punch? Yes, I think it could. In the hands of a fantasy author like Neil Gaiman would its other-worldly elements have delivered a more heightened sense of wonder? Perhaps.

But I don’t believe that’s what the author wanted. I believe Mitchell is a skilled enough writer that he delivered exactly the story he intended to tell. Given the extraordinary breadth of the world he creates, and the fundamental ordinariness of the souls who inhabit it, that’s no mean feat. Bottom line? This is an another extraordinary novel from one of the bravest and best writers of his generation, and you need to read it.

My final remark is reserved for the title. While the phrase “bone clocks” gives little away, nevertheless it reeks with symbolism. Is this a psychological thriller? A dark fantasy? A lifetime’s memoir? The answer is it’s all those things and more.

If you’re wondering what a “bone clock” is, let me assure you that the meaning of the phrase is revealed during the course of David Mitchell’s epic tale. Not that it’s my place to tell you the secret.

Here’s a time-lapse video of my latest Sunday sketch, which I’ve called Kurosawa Lander. The title’s a total cheat, since the (imaginary) subject isn’t Kurosawa-ish at all. Nevertheless, just like last week’s sketch, it’s inspired by the images still sloshing around inside my head since my recent viewing of the master Japanese director’s 1980 movie Kagemusha.

This is first time I’ve tried a timelapse of one of my doodles, and I kind of like the result. I’m less pleased with the drawing itself. The pen ran out halfway through, which didn’t help. As for that clunky medieval landing craft … where the heck did that come from?